


All's Well That Ends Well

by asongincomplete



Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: F/F, Going to Hell, Sibling Incest, praise satan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-14 08:14:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16909377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asongincomplete/pseuds/asongincomplete
Summary: The day of the Feast of Feasts lottery is a long and hard one for Zelda, but even longer for Hilda.





	All's Well That Ends Well

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't stop thinking about how much of a mess the girls would be the day of the lottery. Also, I'm all about the soft gay feelings, so this is idk fluff with a bit of angst? Maybe a little hurt/comfort. Mainly it's me going "now kiss." Finally, it's just Grammarly and me, so bear with me.

After Zelda leaves the table, Hilda shoos their two charges out of the kitchen before Sabrina can build a full head of steam about the barbarity and unfairness of the Feast of Feats, again. She isn't saying anything Hilda hadn't thought about before or said in a fit of tears. 

Ambrose, bless him, saves her from repeating herself. “Come, cuz, it’s late. Let’s leave Auntie Hilda to it.” 

Sabrina sighs, but gets up and gives her a half-hearted hug. “It’s not right,” she tries one last time. 

“I know, poppet.” 

Ambrose places an uncharacteristic kiss on her cheek, before pulling a still fuming teenage half-witch towards the stairs. 

Once alone she hardly knows what to do with herself. 

She wants to go up and tuck Sabrina in and reassure her this world they've asked her to join isn't as terrible as it seems, but Sabrina will see right through her and Hilda promised not to lie.

She only briefly considers the other person she wants to comfort, but experience has taught her to give Zelda a wide berth on these occasions. 

With a heavy heart, she starts her usual wipe around the kitchen, tidying everything away. She checks on her spiders and plants, though neither needs it, before pouring a glass of wine. She settles herself in front of the fire in the parlor for the long, torturous night ahead. 

{caos}

She wakes as the sunlight breaks through the window. Her back aches from sleeping in a chair and her knees creak as she stands. Hilda feels her age more than usual but doesn’t dwell on it; today is not about her. There is breakfast to be made and Sabrina to send off to school, and the daily chores won't do themselves. 

Sabrina gets an extra kiss and a tight hug. Hilda doesn’t promise it’ll be alright or even wish her a good day. Today would be hard for all of them, even if the outcome were good. 

She doesn’t check on Zelda until midmorning, with a breakfast tray fixed with all her favorite foods and a headache draught. It’ll be a miracle if her sister eats anything at all, but she tries anyway. She never stops trying. 

Thankfully, Zelda still sleeping, better this way, much less time for Zelda to overthink. That's Hilda's job today. 

She spends most of the day overthinking despite keeping her hands busy in the garden. She worries and thinks, getting angrier and angrier until she's pulled up all the weeds and half the vegetables. 

She sighs at the mess and goes inside to fix lunch. 

She sits at the half-empty table with Ambrose, trying not to stare at Zelda's chair, but she is no good at ignoring her sister's absence. Ambrose, thankfully, knows better than to bring up the elephant in the room and asks about the turnips and some herbs he needs. Usually, they'd put pen to paper and start planning the spring garden. Today, she can't bring herself to think of the future. Tonight looms too large, and she can't imagine a future at all without her sister. 

She spends most of the afternoon scrubbing every pot in the kitchen. The water is a tad too hot, making her hands sting halfway through, but she ignores it and keeps washing. She has to stay busy. 

By evening, the whole kitchen sparkles. Hilda feels none of the joy and satisfaction that a good spring cleaning, even one in the fall, usually evokes. 

There is nothing left to do, so she heads upstairs and draws Zelda’s bath. 

Just as Zelda always passes out drunk when it is her turn as a tribute, Hilda always spoils her. When it is Hilda's turn, things go a little different. Zelda is always unbearably angry, unable to look at Hilda. She hides in her room smoking and drinking and breaking everything in sight. It makes them feel ancient and like teenagers at once and Hilda thought they'd never have to go through it again, yet here they are. 

All Hilda wants is to hug herself to Zelda; instead, she sits on the bed and watches her dress, like she's done too many times before. 

She’s beautiful, always has been, but age has only enhanced her beauty. Hilda used to envy her looks, even at sixteen she had been plump next to statuesque Zelda. That ended the moment her hands began to itch with the need to touch her. She feels the need heavily now and balls her hands into fists. 

When Zelda is ready, they walk to the front door together. Hilda hasn’t regretted her excommunication until now. She should be walking Zelda to the church, should be there to support her before and after. She belongs at her sister's side, always has. 

Satan, what if she is chosen?

No, Hilda decides, that is not going to happen. 

“I’ll have tea and biscuits when you get back.” There is forced cheer in her voice, and her smile is a little shaky, but it's the best she can do. 

When Zelda gives a small-sad smile of her own, Hilda falters, and her tears fall freely. 

{caos}

When the front door slams closed, the kitchen is all tidied up with not a hint of the mess it was ten minutes before. It still smells of freshly baked biscuits and fairy cakes of all kinds. Hilda went a bit mad with the whole thing; a few hours can feel like a lifetime when so much is at stake, and her anxiety had not made things any better, but she won't beat herself up for it — not today of all days, and certainly not now. 

She turns to watch Zelda and Sabrina storm, in talking over each other, all anger. Hilda stands back and lets them vent. The absence of tears can only be a good sign, so she allows them to have a go at each other while she breathes-easy for the first time all day.

"Right, well, what's done is done. Let's just praise Satan. He decided to spare you both." 

They don't stop arguing immediately, but eventually, everyone starts using their indoor voices and sharing the tea and biscuits. Ambrose goes off on his own first, then Sabrina, and then it’s just the two of them. Survivors of yet another feast, hands clasped on the table. 

“You should go up too, get some rest. You’ve had a difficult day.” 

Zelda nods, “Yours hasn’t been any easier.” 

“I’m just going to clean this up.” She has so much she wants to say, but her emotions are quickly overwhelming her, and she doesn't want to cry in front of Zelda again. This day isn't about her, except it is. It could've stolen her entire world.

“Don’t take too long.” 

She holds it together just long enough to watch Zelda walk out of the kitchen.

{caos}

She takes her time with the dishes, allows herself to cry as much as she needs. She doesn’t go up until she feels in control again. 

That control proves tenuous when she steps into their bedroom and see Zelda’s blotchy face and red eyes. 

“Oh, Zelds.” 

She rushes to her, climbing on the bed and pulling Zelda into her arms, rubbing her back and stroking her hair and whispering soothing things into her ear. All the things her sister usually hates and sneers at. Now she burrows into Hilda, hiding her face in her neck. 

They stay like that so long Hilda’s legs begin to lose feeling. 

She tries to shift, but Zelda looks up pleadingly.

“Stay.”

“I am, but we can't sleep like this.” 

She maneuvers them until she can pull the covers around them and settles back with her legs thankfully stretched out. Zelda snuggles into her side immediately, and it stirs all those feelings she tried to get a hand on downstairs. Feelings ever present just under the surface —feelings Hilda can't rid herself off, no matter how much she tries. This thing she never voices because Zelda wouldn’t want to hear it anyway. 

Any other day she could control this, but today she is too raw to fight it. 

She loves Zelda, is in love with her and has been for most of her life. Whether it's right or wrong, Hilda doesn't know and has long since given up on figuring it out. Whatever the answer, this is the simplest truth of her life; she's in love with her sister. 

She lets that love seep into her voice now. “It’s going to be fine, darling. You watch. Everything will be fine. We’ll find a way, we always do. Don’t we my love?” 

Zelda looks at her with such an open expression of longing it stuns her. Had she ever looked at her like that before? No, not possible. Hilda would remember this artificial slowing of time that sends her heart beating so fast she fears a panic attack. 

She swallows and prays to Satan for bravery. She cradles Zelda’s cheek in her hand lightly and feels her chest tighten when Zelda leans into her touch, eyes fluttering closed. 

She is so damn beautiful. It renders Hilda stupid. 

And so she does the stupidest thing she’s ever done; she leans down and presses her lips to Zelda’s. Their lips scarcely brush, but it's almost electric, and she jumps back a little. 

Zelda’s eyes open and search her face for a moment, then she pulls her back down. This time there is none of her timidity, Zelda leans in with purpose, lips pressing and parting just enough that Hilda can feel a bit of wetness. It’s intoxicating, this barely-there taste of her sister. She’s been wanting this almost from the moment she crossed the Atlantic to join her sibling at the academy. In that time she's dreamt of this moment in infinite variations, but none can hold a candle to this. 

As she opens her mouth to Zelda and feels her tongue against her own, truly tasting her for the first time, she feels delirious. Her hand slides into Zelda’s hair, gripping more tightly than she ought to, but she can’t stop. They are so close, and yet she wants her closer; needs her closer. 

She almost lost her. Again. 

The thought makes Hilda frantic. She pulls at Zelda, hands sliding from her hair to her back bunching Zelda's silk robe at her waist, and kisses with mounting desperation. Zelda makes a sound of what, surprise, approval, discomfort? She ignores it, kisses her just a little longer. She can't waste what might be her only chance to taste her sister's lips. 

Zelda is the one that pulls back, resting her forehead against Hilda’s, panting a little. 

“I almost lost you.” Hilda tries to explain because surely Zelda will ask questions, will want to know what the hell has gotten into her. 

“I’m here. I’m fine. Everything is fine.” 

Hilda is relieved and pleasantly surprised at hearing her words: no questions, no anger, just reassurances. She kisses Zelda’s forehead and relaxes into the pillows. The feast fiasco isn’t over yet, Sabrina still has to be the handmaiden, but for now, everything does seem fine. 

Except, “Zelds?” 

“Yes?” 

“Are we really doing this?” She has to ask because she is greedy, has always been greedy, for Zelda's love. 

Zelda presses her lips to the spot where Hilda's jaw meets her ear with such tenderness Hilda is misty-eyed. She's about to comment when Zelda's teeth pull on her earlobe and unintelligible sounds escape instead. 

“We are. Now turn off the light, I'm tired." 

She feels Zelda's smile against her skin and her heart beats just a little bit wonky. 

“Right. Good.” She does as Zelda asks and settles back. Zelda snuggles so close she is half draped on Hilda. She instantly loves the weight and warmth of her sister, alive and well and hers. Hilda wraps both arms around her, kisses her forehead once more, says a prayer of thanks to the Dark Lord and lets Zelda's warmth lull her to sleep.


End file.
